It's Alright To Cry, Kid
by Teh Future Mrs. Kyo Sohma
Summary: [Kyo&Kyoko fluff] ‘Bad’ in general just didn’t give justice to the terrible, down right horrid time he’d suffered for the morning's waking existence. Twelve, miserable hours he’d wasted breathing that pungent, depressing air. [‘So, how was the funeral?’]


**A/N:**

**So like, I was in a really angsty mood and needed some cheering up...**

**... So I wrote this fluffy little fic to remind myself that all is well.**

**Slightly OOC and AU, possibly, as I'm not sure when Kyo met Kyoko.**

It's Alright To Cry, Kid

The breeze had picked up again; it always did on days like this, when it seemed like the sun wouldn't stop bringing the sweat and then suddenly, everything halts as a chilling wind travels from the base of your spine to your neck in a shiver of change. They'd found each other again, you see, outside the train station on the brick wall where they always met. It'd always been that way.

But, unlike most days, today had been a particularly bad day for one of them. Though it seems as if 'bad' in general just didn't give justice to the terrible, down-right horrid morning, afternoon and nearly night he'd suffered for over twelve hours of waking existence. Twelve, miserable hours he'd wasted breathing that pungent, depressing air and never be able to take back from the Keeper of Time.

They'd sat in silence, that pair, for the past twenty-five minutes, neither of them sure how to start a reasonable conversation without striking a painful subject. Eventually, the older woman spoke.

"So," it was a reasonable beginning, wasn't it? A simple word that can be concluded by anything. This, at least, grabbed the boy's attention. "How was it?"

"How was what?" He snapped, knowing fully what she was asking about. Yet he stood his ground, as if defending himself against something. Unsure of how to approach him, the woman continued.

"You know... the... the, er..." she urged him to finish her sentence, but he stared blankly at her, refusing. She soon gave up and finished the sentence herself. "How was the funeral?"

Silence. She was met by silence, but what did she expect? A decent conversation with a person just attended his own mother's funeral? At such a young age, too... it bought memories of her husband's funeral to mind. She remembered her daughter's face, her questions. 'Where's daddy going?', 'Why isn't he back yet?' and such. She grimaced, nudging the small boy.

"Hmmnnph." Was the grunted reply she received after a very long string of nothing; the only noise being the trains and the rushing people around them. "Not nice. Sad, I guess."

His voice cracked slightly as his sentence came to a close and he began to choke up, turning swiftly away from his older friend. He grinded his eyes with his hand, covering up any traces of discontent. The woman began to giggle, snorting slightly. The boy, even at a young age, sure had a thing about his dignity.

"C'mere," she reached for him, but he pushed her away. She had realised, by this point in their friendship, she was unable to touch him. She'd concluded he must really hate hugs. "You know, your mom just died."

She paused, feeling stupid. As the words left her mouth, she witnessed him break down into little sobs, his shoulders slumping slightly. He was just glad he wasn't facing her; otherwise, she's see how much he was crying. Mentally slapping herself for being so inconsiderate, she continued.

"But... it's alright... at first, it feels like the pain will never go away. You've really lost something important to you. This time round, kiddo, it's not your undies or a pair of mittens. It was someone you were close to. Trust me, hon." She paused, turning him to face her. His face was scrunched up, tears coming faster now, despite the fact he was doing everything within his power to stop them. "I've been there before."

"M-Mom..." was the strangled reply she received. Smiling slightly at his feeble attempts to stop the now freely flowing tears, she placed a hand atop his head. Seeing him cry this way only further reminded her of her late husband's premature death. Her eyes were downcast as she reminisced the day, a familiar pang of angst striking her where it hurts.

No, not between the legs, you dirty person.

She bit her lip as she pressed her hand down on his head slightly harder, making him look at her with puffy eyes.

"It's alright to cry, kid." She gingerly wiped a tear from her own eye, before brushing his eyes lightly. "It's alright to cry."

Kyo sat back from Kyoko's touch, remaining silent. After a few moments of deep thought, his cheeks flushed with pure embarrassment.

"Damn it!" He glared at her and she couldn't help but grin. "I wasn't crying!"

"Sure you weren't, Orangey!" She gave him a noogie, causing him to yelp.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Kyo growled, turning away again, arms crossed across his chest. "That isn't my name!"

"How many times do _I _have to tell _you?_" Kyoko mimicked, grinning harder than ever at his growly face. "I wouldn't call you that if you told me your name!"

"That's it, damn it!" The young boy continued to swear, as if it were normal. People walked past, glancing at him as if he were crazy. Or as if Kyoko were a very bad mother. "I'm going home!"

He jumped from the wall, glancing one last time at his female friend before running into the distance. Kyoko couldn't help but smile.

The breeze had picked up again; it always did on days like this, when it seemed like the sun wouldn't stop bringing the sweat and then suddenly, everything halts as a chilling wind travels from the base of your spine to your neck in a shiver of change. They'd found each other again, you see, outside the train station on the brick wall where they always met. It'd always been that way.

**A/N:**

**Well, wasn't exactly as fluffy as I promised, but it sure made me feel better.**

**(spreads the love)**


End file.
